


The Exotic Courtesan

by Ari_to_Levi_Sama, Teal_Lein (Lein_Honey)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ancient Egypt, BAMF Eren, BAMF levi, Carla is pretty bitchy, Dominant Eren Yeager, Eren and Isabel are siblings, Erwin has a thing for Levi, F/M, Grisha needs to grow himself some balls, Happy Ending, He's not gonna get any tho, If I ever finish this fic, Levi and Mikasa are siblings, M/M, Prince Eren Yeager, Princess Isabel - Freeform, Reincarnation AU, Slave Farlan, Slave Levi, Titan Haired Eren, Uke Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), future archaeologist Levi and Eren, heterochromatic Eren, of course in modern times they are together, past Rivaille and modern Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ari_to_Levi_Sama/pseuds/Ari_to_Levi_Sama, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lein_Honey/pseuds/Teal_Lein
Summary: Rivaille was content in the brothel his family and he worked and lived in. When he gets kidnapped and taken to the Capital, Trost, and sold off to the royal family, he has to protect himself and a friend that he met along the way from the mysterious and creepy Queen and King. He gets the help from the prince and princess, whom want to change what is happening in their land, but they need to first act along with the ploy- Rivaille being in love with his fiancé, Eren.Just don't actually fall for him.Easier said than done.DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. DO NOT COPY OR REPOSTWill be re-made and posted on another account later (name above).





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've already got a couple chapters down, I just need to look them over and make sure they aren't complete shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based loosely off of the fic Street Brat by Monsoon  
> It isn't exactly Egyptian, but it will have a lot of it's customs, along with many other cultures

The last thing Rivaille remembered, was that the brothel he helped out in and lived with his sister and mother was being ransacked. It wasn't something surprising, something that happened quite often, as horrible as the information was.

 

Rivaille wasn't one of the prostitutes that worked there. He was more of a protector of the workers and their children, more like. Once in a while he would help cook food, or sew clothes that had been either needing altering or were ripped by the more violent customers.

 

That didn't mean he was never, ' _offered_ ', for lack of a better word. Even with the brothel filled with girls and boys with different features to be admired, Rivaille knew he was exotic.

 

Pale, lithe body and small frame. Inky black, silky hair that was shaved in an undercut. Half-lidded grey eyes mixed with blue that could leave a person reeling with both fright from the harsh glare and want from the ethereal beauty.

 

His mother and sister had the same look as well. His mother was the 'Queen' of the brothel, Rivaille and his sister Mikasa the 'Prince' and 'Princess'. His mother was, at one point, a prostitute, Mikasa and him the twin offspring of one of the unknown clients. Their mother, Kuchel, had been leading their father on for nearly a year before they bedded. He never slept with anyone else there, and because of his higher class standing, he couldn't marry her and help raise his children.

 

Instead, he gave them enough money for them to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Feeling motherly towards the other workers, she kept the three of them at the brothel, and Kuchel only had to care for her children and sing and dance for the brothel.

 

Which he'd been watching. His sister joined her mother for the first time on stage, and feeling uncomfortable with those eyes on his every move, he stood to the side and watched the two he loved most in his life dance and sing, background dancers being just that compared to the two beauties. 

 

Kuchel was their age when she became with child, but she hadn't aged much. Her eyes were more wiser, darker almost, face looking positively smug, as if she knew the secrets of the world and would only tell her children, just to see the two take it over for her.

 

And as Rivaille gained consciousness, wrists and ankles in chains, thinking he would easily and eagerly do so when he was free.

 

Rivaille would take over the world, burn everything and everyone in his path, if it meant he could find his family and keep them as safe and happy as possible.


	2. The Realization

Rivaille had never felt air that was so heavy in his lungs. The heat, wherever he was, was incredibly sweltering.

 

The white button-up, brown vest and pants and black boots he was wearing felt like he was in furs, whereas back in the brothel where his village resided in, they barely kept the almost shiver-worthy breeze from his already cold tempered body chilly.

 

Even in the cells he and the others were caged in and shackled, the sun shone too bright through the barred windows. Some of the other prisoners seemed to feel the same as he, while others acted as if it was the most normal thing to them.

 

Which, Rivaille supposed, could be the case. He feels as though some of the people alongside him he recognizes, but his head is still foggy from something one or another. Whether he got hit over the head or unknowingly drugged, he doesn't remember.

 

There's a chance he was put in a sleeper hold, but he would've remembered that, he's sure. Besides, not a lot of people in his village knew more fighting techniques than learned or used against street fights.

 

He did though, which is why he knows it was either one of the first two.

 

Or both. If you're going to traffic humans like cattle, whether staying in or going out to vast lands beyond, might as well go big or go home, which would be the case for Rivaille.

 

He would be home with his sister and mother in no time, surely.

 

_'Won't I?'_

 

 

 

 

 

Rivaille realized quickly that the people around him were aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. Which made him come to the realization that they would be sold off to as slaves.

 

While not exactly legal, no one did it in his village, since there were brothels and prostitues on nearly every corner, the penalty of being caught by the Recon Corps too great. Rivaille could feel it in his small heart that he was far from home. From his sister, his mother, the girls in the brothel with them.  
The children who were like Mikasa and him at one point in their lives. The boys, guards, cooks. The owner, who was actually a caring man despite the business he was running.

 

Some of the other prisoners spoke another language. While not alarming, since everyone in his village spoke at least three fluently, the language spoken amongst the others was an almost higher class spoken amongst immigrants in power.  
It was when the person across the cell from his spoke to him that he realized where he was held captive in.

 

Trost.

 

The people here were Trostians. They were speaking in the most used language here, that was rare but somehow exciting to know to use back in his little backwater, trading village.

 

The thought had him reeling, making his head clear up completely. He looked up and saw a long-limbed blonde man. He wore clothing similar to his own, sweat soaked, and his skin not as pale to his own, covered in bruises and cuts.

 

He was caged, and beaten, and would be sold off to some creep, and yet he was still fighting. It showed in his bright blue eyes.  
"Do you speak Trostian?" the man asked in one of the five languages Rivaille spoke. He nodded slowly, not wanting to move too much, conserving his energy and voice to fight with later.

 

"I am Farlan Church. I suppose, looking as you do, you are not from here," he stated, more than asked, and Rivaille couldn't find it in himself to find the comment offensive or racist to his mixed heritage.

 

Farlan seemed to be asking for his name with his eyes. Rivaille rolled his eyes, and said scowling, "Rivaille. And no, I'm not. My home is far from here."

 

"That's horrible. The guards here have been plucking people out of the cells for a couple of minutes now, only four, but there's not a lot of us here." Which Rivaille instantly translated to 'We'll be next, soon.'

 

Farlan looked relieved that Rivaille figured out his innuendo quickly. "There's only two cells after us, ten before. I've noticed they take two people from cages opposite another every ten to twenty minutes before coming back for others. Trost is well-known for as a slave owning trade center. I'm more than sure that's why we were all captured here," he said. Rivaille nodded again, stretching out slowly, trying not to let his shackles make too much noise, lest he capture the guards' attention.

 

Farlan did the same, as though he caught on that it would be wise to get ready to fight, which looking at his figure, didn't seem like he could. But so did Rivaille, and he knew better than to make assumptions of people.

 

Farlan seemed to be very observant, like Rivaille, but he was aware of his surroundings longer than he had. For the time being, he'd have to use Farlan as an ally. Which was what he needed, if he were to get out of here. A smart, helpful person fighting with his back to his own, not ever willing to surrender.


	3. Bought

It took approximately twenty minutes for Farlan and Rivaille to be led into the long, dark, musky tunnel leading up into Trost's market center. The approximation was made by Farlan. "They're taking two people across each other's cages. It won't be long until we are next."

 

"And what, do you suppose, we should do?" Rivaille asked, eyebrow raised. That was most he's said the whole time he has been caged there.

 

Farlan took notice. "Well, I suggest we go along with it, then fight before we're taken away to our 'Master's Love Nest'." He said. Rivaille grimaced at the term.

 

"Great plan. You should be fucking king of the world with a brain like yours," Rivaille grumbled. Farlan laughed, not taking offense to Rivaille's sarcastic remarks.

 

"Well, d'you got any better ones, Rivaille?" He asked, eyebrow raised high. Rivaille rolled his eyes as he muttered no. While his head was no longer foggy from whatever drug his kidnappers have him, his head hurt like a bitch, making him crankier and not as bright as he usually is. "That's what I thought. Maybe if we cause a scene, nobody will want us."

 

"Or maybe, some sicko will want someone 'feisty' for his rape-y kinks and buy us instead of someone who would just pluck us off randomly to have sex at random times, who might be nice enough to feed and bathe us before the raping begins. Or get us killed," Rivaille said, dampening Farlan's mood. "Hmm, you're right. But you never know unless you try, right?" He exclaimed.

 

That was five minutes ago. Now, the two of them were being led to two large, double doors, large cheers and leering being heard through the other side. The heavy chains, which would probably leave marks around both of their wrists and ankles, were rattling loudly, getting on Rivaille's nerves.

 

Oh, how he wished he could just bash his head backwards into the guards head, either breaking his nose or effectively knocking him out. In which, Farlan would deal with his guard. Then, they could grab the keys, unlock the others, and find a way to escape. But nope, the guards just has to attach a large wooden stick attached to their wrist cuffs, effectively ruining his daring plan.

 

The doors opened, revealing a bright, blinding light. The air even dryer outside than the cages, making Rivaille almost wish he were still down there instead. They were brought up onto a stage, people leering at the two males, making them feeling sick.

 

Rivaille looked up at Farlan, still trying to comprehend the fact that he was fucking _kidnapped_. While just rolling with things was usually how he worked, this was different than just a raid at the brothel. There was different terms now, a different stage. He didn't know how his opponents worked, just met his ally, so he didn't know how _he_  worked. Once he was home and safe and with his sister and mother, he was going to have to sit down and think all of this over and gloss over his mistakes to reassure himself this _never_  happened again.

 

The _seller_ , or whatever, was yelling out numbers, smirking their way, as if enjoying their discomfort. Rivaille's jaw tightened painfully, teeth grinding. Farlan almost looked scared for the people who had crossed Rivaille, wondering if his family all looked and acted as tough as he did, or if he was the black sheep.

 

When someone's manicured hand raised, yelling out an obnoxious amount of money to buy the _both of them_ , Farlan and Rivaille raised their heads up to seek out the mysterious stranger. And looked into the golden eyes of the queen of Trost.

 

Carla Yeager.


	4. Similarities Noticed 5000 Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've added a chapter to this, and with it getting more attention (yay! thank you!) I'll go ahead and give who ever is reading this more

"Jaeger!" Eren looks up from brushing dust off of the pyramid walls, body sweating _way_ more than he wishes it to.

 

His eyes swivel to Pixis, sitting underneath a rainbow coloured umbrella, drinking from a beautifully detailed flask. Eren would be pissed at him, but he valued his company (and his job), so he keeps his mouth shut, trying to stop his smirk from forming. He jogs over to the man in the shade, breathing out a sigh of relief when he is covered from the scorching sun that was Trost.

 

"While you seem to be having the time of your life brushing delicately at five thousand year old pyramid walls instead of your boyfriend's, I think it's high time for your break," he smirks, taking another swig from his drink. Eren blushes more from the comment than he did from the heat, chuckling softly and looking away.

 

He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous mannerism he caught from his friend Armin from the longtime friendship. "Am I that obvious, sir?" He asks embarrassed.

 

Pixis throws his head back while laughing, patting his thigh. "Well, you definitely don't  _not_ try to hide it. Even if you weren't so lovey dovey with how you treat him, I'd have guessed it either way. Or at least hope you two were together, you two make an amazing couple---better than my marriage with my ex-wife of thirty years," he winks.

 

That was one of the reasons Eren liked Pixis---he accepted---fuck, he even _cheered_  when he and Levi announced they were together to their coworkers and friends. Well, Eren did. Levi just sort of just stood next to him, glaring at the people he suspected would say something negative about their relationship. Or Hanji. They were a bit... _extravagant_  with how they showed their 'love'.

 

Eren can't help but to look for the small ravenette he loves. He sees him sitting on his bent legs, trying to not get any sand on his ' _expensive as fuck_ ' pants, dusting gently at some object. The large, quite oversized for him, sun hat is quite adorable on him, making him look younger than his twenty-nine years. Eren smiles gently at the one he adores more than any other.

 

He hears Pixis laughing quietly, turning his head sharply towards the old man. "What are you laughing at?" He asks, a little more attitude in his voice than he should have towards his superior.

 

Pixis shakes his head, smile still large on his face. "You two are so cute I might shit rainbows from how gay it is." Eren gasps as if offended, but he knows Pixis doesn't mean to offend, and Levi says similar things, so he's quite used to the two of them making jokes at how affectionate he was with his lover.

 

Pixis sighs while smiling, shaking his head as he hands Eren a water bottle.

 

Eren guzzles it down great fully, before he feels a light hand on one of his shoulder blades. "You shouldn't drink so much at once, you'll get a stomach ache, idiot," he hears Levi behind him. He smiles awkwardly, feeling stupid but happy from how Levi shows his love. "Thank you, love," he says, eyes crinkling at the sides from his smile. Levi looks away, a light blush on his otherwise straight face.

 

"Aww, it's a shame you can't have kids. They'd be the most moody, adorable little things," Pixis mutters. The two lovers both blush, Eren smiling at the thought of kids with both his and Levi's genes. He contemplates how it would be like, if they would look like one of them more than the other or look like a mix of the brunette and the ravenette, if they'd have a mixture of their personalities or have their own. He almost giggles in delight at the picture of a very pregnant Levi. Oh, how cute and seductive he would look if he- "Oi, Eren, are you fucking listening?" Levi grumbles in his quiet, yet demanding voice.

 

Eren looks down into timeless cadet grey eyes looking into his own, a thin black eyebrow raised. If Eren was honest it almost looked like Levi wanted to smile, but was holding it back (rather successfully).

 

"No, I wasn't." Eren says honestly. He has learned over the years of being in a relationship with Levi (first as friends, which gradually became their romantic relationship) is that Levi prefers you tell him the truth, even if he didn't like what he heard.

 

Levi gives a small smirk, shaking his head and turning his gaze towards a (rather perverted) smiling Pixis. "As I was saying, Levi has found something interesting when he returned into the pyramid, have you not, Levi?" He states, more than asks. Levi gives a curt, short nod. Eren turns an interested gaze towards him, seeing the square shaped hieroglyph-written block of the same stone as the outside pyramid walls.

 

It was rather large, and looked heavy, but Eren knew it was greatly fragile. It showed a lot of what was the early Trostian language. It has always caught Eren's attention, early Trost and it's surrounding cities, it's history and stories and beliefs, it's language and people. It's one of the ways Eren and Levi bonded in the first place, their equal interest in ancient Trost.

 

Levi and Pixis were more advanced at translating the hieroglyphs picked into the stone than he was, but he could still understand what was being protrayed in the pictures. It looked like a love story between two young men, a captured commoner-turned-slave and a rebellious Trost prince, along with the princess and the slave's companion. They all read quietly the, quite sweet and romantic in it's own beautifully tragic way, story of the star-crossed lovers, and their troubles. Ancient Trost was, and still is, more accepting of LGBTQ+ rights than other countries were and are. While the royal family and nobles were corrupt, they seemed to realize that if some prince loved another male aristocrat, then it shouldn't be outlawed, same if a female wanted to act and dress like a male, since there weren't any sexist laws or customs.

 

Eren notices the similarities to his relationship with Levi with the story of the prince and kidnapped slave. Where his last name was Jaeger, the prince's was Yeager. Where Levi was Levi, the slave was known as Rivaille. The way they were described personally, their looks, (while Eren thinks he wasn't as stubborn as Yeager, or had heterochromatic eyes) it's almost scary how similar the four of them are. He notices Levi's gaze at his side, looking without turning his head, he sees that Levi has noticed the similarities as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, straight face  
> As-fucking-if.  
> I was kind of surprised myself that I wrote in third person Eren p.o.v...  
> Welp, hope you liked it. The two stories will coincide with the other, so hope you enjoy this new installment to the story (I like this idea very much)  
> I tried to get a few short puns (if you'd call them that)(idk why I did, I'm shorter than Levi...)


	5. A New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paramore's The Only Exception has to be one of the sweetest songs I've ever heard.  
> *sighs*, which just made me want to go back to this fic.  
> Hope you enjoy, and don't mind bitchy Carla, and ball-less Grisha

Levi wonders if the trip to Trost was as long as it feels taking the carriage ride to queen Carla's palace in Trost.

 

He and Farlan seemed to have given up hope when the auctioneer happily gave the Queen the two males. The look they gave each other was so lost and without hope; it was as if this was it. If they were to be slaves for the fucking queen of Trost, then _how the fuck_ would they be able to escape?

 

Levi couldn't help but to analyze every single detail of what has been happening to him, trying to find something, but not really sure as to what he was looking for.

 

And wasn't that what he has always been doing? Looking for an unknown something? As if he knew something was supposed to be there, but it _just wasn't there._  

 

He's been keeping a distance to just about everyone, feeling content with the loneliness he's always felt inside, never feeling someone other than Mikasa or his mother was worth the risk of giving his heart to. His soul. His very being.

 

And now that he's sitting here, thinking of all of the mistakes he's made, all of the times he's smiled softly with his family, he wishes he might've found one more person to live for.

 

To get through this, to survive this, to believe that he was worth being loved.

 

 

 

 

Looking over at Queen Carla, Levi admits to himself that she is a beautiful women, despite not being very attracted to the other sex---or any, as far as he's seen potential partners go by in his life.

 

Brown skin melting perfectly with chocolate brown hair and golden honey eyes, large and with long eyelashes, gold paint and jewelry all along her arms, neck and ankles.

 

He can't help but wonder what the purpose is of having bought Farlan and him; what they will be forced to do.

 

He wants to know why she had requested the two to stay in the carriage same as hers, with no guards inside with them.

 

He wants to be angry at the pretentious act, but instead the feeling of dread and worry fills his stomach.

 

He keeps an emotionless face the whole time, trying to convey an image of someone he is not. Maybe if he acts bold and strong, that's what he will become. He's always been like this, like his mother and sister, but he's never felt so out of place and scared.

 

The queen's snide smile, though, grates on his nerve endings; what exactly is going on in that brown head of hers, to make her smile as if she was the queen of the world, not Trost.

 

It makes him think of his mother, and he has to fight the imaginary tears to go away; he hasn't cried since he was a toddler---he wasn't  going to try and break that record.

 

"We're almost there," the queen says quietly, but loud enough for them to hear the slightly menacing tone of her voice.

 

Levi feels Farlan's slight shiver, suppressing the urge to place his hand on his shoulder. That'd, no doubt, make them look weak in the Queen's eyes, and he _doesn't_  need to add that to the cup full of shit he's being forced to drink.

 

He just continues to look into her eyes; staring her down, more like. She seems to get a kick out of it.

 

"You're feisty, I can tell. You don't have to open up that pretty mouth of yours to prove it. _Eren_ will enjoy that," she says, putting an emphasis on the way she spoke of 'Eren' and will, as if forcing that person to enjoy Levi, for some reason.

 

That makes Levi want to shiver. What exactly goes on through the closed doors of Trost's royal family?

 

The carriage horses stop, a man opening the door, helping the queen out, before looking sympathetically at Levi and Farlan, as if knowing exactly what they're going through.

 

Levi wishes to take the brown man away from here, as well. He must have a family awaiting his return, hoping and praying that _there_ was a family for the man to come home to.

 

Levi and Farlan are grabbed by the arms, forcing them behind their backs, stumbling from the force the guards have against their weaker bodies from lacking the daily nutrition they've had before. Even in the brothel, the owner made sure all of the workers and their children were never starving.

 

They walk up the seemingly endless stairs, seeing all sorts of people walk through the open holes of the walls of the palaces to see outside instead of windows, somehow slapping people in the face from showing that the Royal family was somehow too good for windows.

 

Gods, Levi hated rich people.

 

They walk inside, it being slightly cooler than outdoors, into a long clear hallway. There's a low beat indicating drums are being hit, feet hitting the floor to the same beat. Levi remembers beats playing as his mother taught him and Mikasa how to dance in different ways, from seductive to sweet.

 

The queen sashays her hips, as if she too wishes to swing to the beat but keeping herself in check. Farlan is sweating horribly, but his face being almost as emotionless as Levi's. 

 

She spins around when they reach the two doors where the music is coming from, smiling as if in triumph; from what, Levi almost doesn't want to know.

 

She looks directly at Farlan and Levi, but eyes trailing back to Levi, eyes shining as if she---like Mother---knows something they don't.

 

Mothers, Levi sighs.

 

"I welcome you to the Yaeger Palace, boys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren comes in the next chapter, along with Isabel.  
> I'm not quite sure how to introduce the two (or Hanji), so if anyone has any ideas, please let me know!  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy darlings


	6. Welcoming Us With Open Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know that Levi is meant to be Queen though, right? It's not just me, seeing all the wing-tipped eyeliner and lipgloss that sassy little fucker wears?!  
> Whatever, Isabel and Carla don't deserve the crown...

Screams and the sound of something (that sounded expensive, what with it sounding like literal broken glass) fell through the thick double doors, into the room they were about to walk into. The queen doesn't look surprised by the noise assaulting their eardrums, more like she was expecting something like this to come up. 

 

She looks over with half-lidded auburn eyes, alluring to some, dangerous in Rivaille's mind. 

 

"Ready to meet the family, boys? I'll try to get them to act accordingly, but children tend to disobey quite often," she says quietly, voice still ringing through the few meter space between them. Rivaille feels like the comment was almost a hint as to what was to become. 

 

Whatever _what_ was, he wasn't sure, and he hated that. 

 

She twirled once again towards the doors, pushing both forwards with some effort that looks as though it's done often and just as flamboyant. Rivaille feels Farlan's blue gaze on him, but he keeps his eyes forward, ears attentive to every sound made around him. 

 

They walk in at the push of one of the guards, Rivaille rolling overcast grey eyes. Already he knew that would be a reoccurring plan of action to be initiated upon himself and Farlan. 

 

The blonde and ravenette look in wonder and disgust at the scene before them. 

 

A girl, maybe a few years younger than himself, was standing over a dancer girl, shards of an expensive looking turquoise bowl---by the way some of the pieces are formed---sprawled around them. The dancer girl is holding onto her head, red seeping between her fingers and the clothe of her purple headband. 

 

Rivaille felt his body surge forward, but he stopped himself, as if his mind knew already that this fight would never be in his or the girl's favor. 

 

Neither Farlan's. He doubted, sincerely, that they'd return home. 

 

He saw the queen approach the red headed girl in a light pink harem outfit. The girl's large, emerald eyes look into golden honey, instantly standing up straight, bowing at the waist, doing the Trostian salute.

 

"What was the meaning for harming yet another dancer, Isabel?" The mother calmly asks, voice having an undertone of malice. Rivaille has never heard a mother speak towards their child like that, even when angry. 

 

"Well, she-"

 

"Ah ah ah, no words shall come from you, girl. I'm ashamed---I bring more beautiful people whom you and your brother could choose from and marry, and you embarrass your father and I. How am I supposed to treat you like an adult if you don't act like one?" Carla chastises. Rivaille would agree but he feels there's something else afoot not being spoken of. 

 

And didn't royalty usually marry other royalty, or at the very least an arostocrat? Why would the queen buy two male slaves, especially if she wants her daughter and _son_ to be wed? 

 

The girl looks down, cheeks blazing bright pink, almost the same shade as her outfit, which looks more expensive then the brothel at home would be sold for, including the inhabitants. The dancer is still on the floor bleeding, silent tears falling down her face. 

 

"Where is Eren, Isabel? Grisha?" She asks, turning towards a sitting man with long brown hair and glasses, green eyes brimming behind lenses resembling Rivaille's and his mother's, only more expensive looking. 

 

"Our son left immediately after Isabel had hurt the performer. I think he is going to tend to her injuries," he says, voice deep but low from an eternally sounding exhausted voice. He looked like he welcomed death, with it's supposed eternal peace, with open arms. 

 

So the prince was the type to hurry to help others, even those who are, in society's eyes, below him? 

 

Interesting. 

 

The queen rolls her eyes, looking both disgusted, amused, and pleased with what her son is planning. 

 

"That boy of ours, Grisha... Oh, meet our new courtiers!" She says, swinging long, brown arms towards Farlan and Rivaille. 

 

Farlan visibly flinches, Rivaille keeping his stoic expression on. Carla keeps her eyes on both him and her daughter, who is eyeing both with newfound interest. 

 

"They're pretty. I especially like the blonde one," she says. Her voice sounds sweet but quiet, as if trying to keep from bursting at the seams. 

 

Carla chuckles quietly. "Did I choose well? You and your brother never seemed to like the others I have prepared for you. I decided to try a new approach with you two, but it seems you're not into the exotic type," she says, eyes going over Rivaille's body. It makes him want to shiver. 

 

The girl---Isabel---turns her eyes from eyefucking Farlan to Rivaille, whom she beams at. "He's perfect! Eren will have to love him, he's so cute yet he looks so strong."

 

"That's what I thought. He has a sort of girlish frame, doesn't he. Have you ever danced, previously?" The queen asks, but Rivaille isn't sure if he's supposed to answer---she seems to be quite infatuated to the sound of her own voice. 

 

"Hmm, a quiet, brooding young lad aswell. Just like my gorgeous boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have not updated for a while, and for leaving this chapter in the middle of a conversation. I'm pretty awkward, so there'll be points where I don't know how to continue the conversation.  
> My Little Mate is coming to an end, but I want to know if anyone has any requests for it---both the smut scene and the epilogue. I'll delve into Levi's pregnancy, but I plan on making that into a part two.  
> Hope you have a wonderful day, darlings.


	7. Meeting the Family

Carla forced Rivaille and Farlan into a large room, filled with colourful rugs, pillows, and drapes. On two large pillows probably made for beds, there were a set of clothes, oddly enough the exact same size of the two, as if they were tailored perfectly for their individual frames.

 

Under strict orders (which Rivaille would've followed, regardless if she had told them or not,) Carla sent them to clean and dress themselves into the clothes laid out for them, and to be escorted to the room they had just left by the guards.

 

Rivaille planned to do everything she said, in the meantime, learning as much as he could about the layout of the castle grounds, for future reference. 

 

He couldn't help but to wonder what the queen's son was like, what he and his sister had to go through with Carla being their mother, having to deal with her basically pimping them off to whoever she deemed fit.

 

He shakes his head slightly, deciding to get into the bath, getting grossed out by the idea of bathing in his own dirt. 

 

He walks into one of the two bathrooms, it consisting of a white and gold claw footed bathtub, a section walled off for a toilet, and a standing sink placed below a large mirror, surrounded by a gold handle. 

 

Rivaille had to stop to breathe calmly, not knowing if it was out of anger that being kidnapped and pimped out was the only way for him to be able to just crap and bathe in a room like this, or out of pure envy and slight happiness that he could _bathe in a gold bathtub._

 

Probably a healthy mixture of the two; or, at least, as healthy as it could be, considering the circumstances. 

 

He puts the clothes from the large silk pillow onto the counter of the sink near the bath, along with a fluffy towel that probably cost more than he did---or maybe not, the queen had spent quite a pretty penny on Farlan and him, and if his knowledge of simple math was still implanted into his brain for everyday use (which was, last time he checked), both of them cost a shit ton individually.

 

He takes off his dingy commoner clothes, filthy with dirt, sand and sweat. Disgusted with himself, he starts to fill the bath water, deciding not to put any of the bath salts in---he could speak Trostian, not read it. 

 

Either way, he didn't trust anyone here. Fucking hell, he barely trusted Farlan, only enough to stay by him. Though come the chance, if he could get away from here and back home to his family, all of them safe and sound, he'd leave at the drop of a coin. 

 

After taking a satisfying shit, he slowly steps in, the water hot, making him sweat even more from the hot air surrounding him and the weather, only a little cooler inside the palace. 

 

He grabs the soap and what looks like a cloth to wipe himself with, he cleans himself thoroughly, draining the water before filling it up again, doing this another time before he feels satisfied with himself. 

 

He dries himself, resisting the body cream ( _you don't know what that shit will do to you, Rivaille_ ) and looking at the clothes before him. 

 

Oh fuck no. 

 

They're the same type of harem clothing at the brothel, but more expensive and finely made. 

 

It's a deep red colour, the shirt and the dhoti pants, the silk fabric layer on top lined with red jewels encrusted into it and the shirt. It feels soft when he touches it, and smells freshly cleaned, but it looks like he's going to seduce someone. 

 

Rivaille figures that's Carla's plan. 

 

He groans, before slipping the outfit on, looking in the mirror---and seeing a whole new Rivaille. 

 

The shirt comes just below the last of his ribs, the sleeves barely covering his shoulders, exposing his collar bones immensely. The dhoti pants hang low on his hips, ending just before his ankles, and no matter how many times he pulls them up, they just go back to where they were before. 

 

He looks pretty, feels pretty. He doesn't mind the feeling, liking it immensely, like when Mikasa or his mother would make him dress like this and put on kohl around his eyes and that shit on his lips. 

 

He walks out the room slowly, only to see Farlan in a similar outfit, a girl making him sit on a conveniently placed chair, putting  kohl around his eyes, jewels in his hair. 

 

He has no shirt on, but the dhoti pants are a similar blue to his eyes, same with the gems in his hair, and as another girl comes out, Rivaille knows that the same treatment will be placed on him, whether he liked it or not.

 

 

 

 

The girls never spoke to them, and they never tried to with the girls. As kohl and paint was marked onto his eyes and lips, the girl with a mask on her face just did as what she was most likely told, placing red gems in his black hair, even going so far as to put on black henna tattoos onto his and Farlan's arms and hands, one going from Rivaille's shoulder to behind his ear.

 

He wasn't quite sure as to what they meant, but they were pretty, the swirls and written language of Trostian painted black on his porcelain skin an entrancing image. 

 

Farlan and Rivaille were escorted out of the room, back to the large one they first were in, to see the mess cleaned up, the pillows organized in a messy way that made Rivaille want to tell the royal family to do it again, and Carla arguing with a tall boy.

 

No, man. A gorgeous one at that. 

 

He looked similar to the princess, more so to the queen, with his darker skin, dark brown hair that looked as though none of those girls who dressed up Farlan and Rivaille tried to help with brushing the soft looking locks. 

 

Rivaille thought that they probably gave up after a while. He couldn't say he minded the look on the prince, though. When the queen and her son turned towards Farlan and him, he was astounded by the colour of his eyes.

 

They were...astounding, to say the least. If Carla's eyes were a beauty to behold, then her son's were something to be celebrated about yearly. Should be painted about, sang and wrote about in sonnets and stories. 

 

They were...two different colours. His right was a green and blue mix, an array of all the shades mixed into that one eye. His left was like Carla's eyes, a honey gold that looked like they could just melt you to the core from just a glance. And as he looked into them, he saw a similar look of awe in them, towards himself. 

 

The man was shirtless, showing off his muscles that men would kill to have, women to worship in bed. Henna tattoos all over the skin that was shown, dhoti pants a shimmering shade of grassy green, bringing the green out of his eye more than the blue or gold. 

 

"Ah, you two look absolutely scrumptious. You clean up well---I like that. I bet Isabel and Eren likes that as well, don't you two?" Carla leers, looking back at the sitting red-head next to her father and the man standing in a defensive stance next to his mother. 

 

The two look at each other before nodding slowly, meeting their mother's golden gaze with their own enchanting ones. 

 

The queen nods before clapping her hands, music playing from behind a large curtain to the left of Farlan and Rivaille, Carla swishing her hips side to side, beckoning Isabel and Eren to join. 

 

"Remember when you two were little and we would dance with the servants? Erwin would smile down at the two of you, your father would try to hide the fact that he liked the music but he would swing along to the beat? Oh, were those the days," she says wistfully, as if she truly missed having her children be actual children. It makes Rivaille wonder what exactly happened behind these palace walls.

 

Carla opens her eyes, seeing her children not move from their spot, before burning her gaze into Farlan and he, more so in Rivaille than the blonde beside him.

 

"I never caught your names. I suppose if I bought you to court my son and daughter, I'd ought to know what the two of you were named at birth," she says, almost to herself, eyes settling on Farlan, as if knowing he was the weaker of the two. Rivaille could tell he was a smart man, but if he started to tell the queen shit about the two, he would kill the taller man himself, even if all Rivaille told him about himself was his name and that he was far from home. 

 

Instead he says in a calm, yet booming voice, "My name is Farlan, and this is Rivaille. We were kidnapped by men who were cowardly enough to drug us before we could fight back, and you bought us as slaves."

 

Said as if the two might've known each other before this, but not letting any type of actual intel about the two slip---perfect, Rivaille was proud. 

 

Carla looks between the two, seeming to realize the same. "Is Rivaille unable to speak?"

 

Farlan looks down at Rivaille, smiling a little, before looking back at the queen and shaking his head no. 

 

"He just doesn't like to talk much."

 

Carla hums before clapping once again, somehow it being heard by the music players, the beat disappearing so the room was in silence. 

 

"I suppose it's time you two should like to eat something then. Wouldn't you?" She asks, head tilting. Rivaille looks back at her, her eyes always seeming to go back to him, his arms crossed across his mid-section. 

 

He answers back with a simple, quiet, "I suppose so."


	8. In Which True Colours Are Shown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no clue whatsoever how long this will be, along with a majority of my other works....  
> Any requests are always welcome, and I hope you enjoy this and have happy holidays and days afterwards to come.

Rivaille and Farlan were seated at the long, marble dining table, much to the surprise of the two 'slaves'. 

 

They sat next to each other, across the prince and princess they were supposed to be courting, according to Carla and said princess. The queen and king were eating some type of meat, while Eren and Isabel just drank water and ate the vegetables. Rivaille wished to eat the food, but was afraid of what might come if he did. 

 

He didn't like to eat meat, anyways. 

 

Carla looks over at her children, not looking surprised, then at Rivaille and Farlan. "Why aren't the two of you eating? I'd have thought this would be to your liking, since the clothing you were in before was the atrocious attire meant for commoners. Do you wish for something else?"

 

Rivaille held back the urge to roll his eyes, only because he remembered that he doesn't know these people. So what the prince was supposedly better than his family in the sense that he'd help a servant that his own sister beat for some reason or another. 

 

So what he's more gorgeous than anyone else he's seen before. Doesn't mean he'll actually court the bright eyed brat. 

 

Perhaps.

 

Carla waits for an answer, Farlan's skin starting to sheen with sweat; Rivaille doesn't blame him, it's hot and he's nervous, he'd be the same if his body hadn't already gotten used to the somewhat less unbearable temperature and he knew how to calm himself. 

 

"I personally can't... um... digest meat well; sorry for the unpleasant news. And Rivaille here doesn't like meat, period," Farlan answers, smiling awkwardly. Huh, he guessed right on that one. 

 

Or Rivaille didn't hide his disgust at looking at the dead animals very well. 

 

Carla hums before placing another price of meat on her fork---silver, the first silver anything he's seen here---bringing the utensil to her mouth, dragging the food off with her white, straight teeth slowly. 

 

"That's a shame---meat is supposed to be healthy for you. Those...what are they called?...Oh yes, Isrealites said in the bible that meat is supposed to be good for you."

 

"The bible also states that men can't cut their hair, or that a man can't lie with another like he would a women, but you've got me here for some reason," Rivaille states coldly, not able to keep quiet from the infuriating women. 

 

Carla looks surprised, same with her children, but where they look proud and happy, she looks smug and condescending---like she was waiting for Rivaille to start to snap. 

 

"I suppose. Well, I bought you, Rivaille, because you're a very beautiful man with a good enough feminine body that people wouldn't know the difference if we covered you up. And really, we only need one heir; it doesn't have to be Eren's child.

 

"Besides, us Yeagers don't go about our lives by the bible. Hardly any Trostians do, most just pray to gods, not one in particular."

 

Rivaille continues his staring contest with Carla before she looks away at the touch of her husband's hand on hers, shaking his head 'no'.

 

"So, that's a yes on having a different meal?"

 

"We'll just have more vegetables, if that's alright." Farlan cuts in before Rivaille can say any more. The siblings across from them keep looking between their mother and the ravenette, as if waiting for something to happen. 

 

"That is alright with me---I'm not the one making food for you. I'm a queen, not a commoner."

 

Ohh, Rivaille couldn't wait to see her in this supposed Hell. 

 

 

 

 

They were lead back into the 'drawing room', which Rivaille was confused as to why it was called that, when no drawings were there. 

 

As they all walked into the room, save for the tall gorgeous brunette, who disappeared somewhere else in the palace unbeknownst to the rest of the royal family and Farlan and Rivaille, although Carla seemed to not be surprised at the sight of her missing son. 

 

In the drawing room stood a tree of a man, whom was tall and had the bottom of his hair shaved off, similar to Rivaille's. His blue eyes, darker than Farlan's, swept over him and the blonde beside him, before keeping his gaze locked on Rivaille. 

 

"And who are these two, Your Majesty?"

 

"I tell you every time, Erwin, you may call me Carla! And these two are the new slaves I have bought for Eren and Isabel. So if I were you, I wouldn't touch them." She says, a hint of a growl underlining her words. 

 

His eyes meet hers, then go to the red-head near them, smirking. "Who have you picked?"

 

"The blonde is named Farlan. Rivaille is for Eren, so don't you touch him; I won't stop him from beating the life out of you for touching another slave if you do," she says, tone similar to her mother's. 

 

What exactly was her gain? Eren's? And what did she mean?

 

Erwin bowed and rolled with an over-exaggerating 'of course, Your Majesty,' before leering at Rivaille again, then walking out of the room. He stops at the double doors wide open, glaring to the side as if seeing something that offended him personally. 

 

He stalks off angrily after that, and Rivaille thinks to himself that he should never walk alone around here---he might've been the strongest in his village, but he is as ignorant as a child about this place and it's inhabitants. 

 

"I suppose the two of you are tired from all of this excitement. Isabel, could you escort these two to their room?" Carla asks her daughter, wording her statement before as if it were a family trip with her children instead of having two full-grown men kidnapped, sold off as slaves and telling them they had to wed her children, both who were in line for the crown. 

 

Fuck, that just all started to sink into Rivaille. 

 

Isabel nods, then bows at the waist, looking at Farlan and Rivaille before saying, "Come then!" 

 

They follow her down a few hallways before she leads them back to their room, where she follows them inside, then proceeds to look all over the place---underneath the pillows and blankets, inside the bathrooms, behind the armoires. 

 

"Alright Eren, you can come out now," she whispers, before the prince walks in from the balcony, looking at the three of them before a look of determination and concern comes onto his face. 

 

"We're sorry if the impression we left on to you was unsatisfactory, but we have to act a certain way around our mother." He says. Gods, his voice was even gorgeous. 

 

Rivaille's eyes, regretfully, move towards Farlan, away from Eren. He has a look of confusion on his face, Rivaille feeling as confused as the blonde looks. 

 

"What are you getting at," Farlan states more than asks, Isabel blinking then blushing in the corner of Rivaille's eye. 

 

Eren looks at the both of them when he says, "Isabel and I wish to take all of the slaves with us and escape Trost."


	9. A Restful Sleep at Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I bet you all were thinking "finally, we'll see how retarded Eren and Isabel's plan is," rIgHt?!  
> Well, you thought wrong, bitches. Back to the modern part of this fic.

Eren pulled out of the digging sight, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Levi's thigh, who was going through his little bag trying to find his antiseptic wipes. 

 

"Jesus fucking Christ in a dipshit stick up motherfucking asses of---" is what he was currently grumbling, his petulant little pout that Eren fell in love with puffing out, meaning he ran out. 

 

"We can stop by the store over here if you want to buy some more," Eren asked, which he didn't need to. They were going to have to go and buy multiple packs of wipes and sanitizer, for good measure, to make Levi happy. 

 

Levi sighed with his eyes closed, long eyelashes fluttering along his pale, sharp cheekbones. "Can we, please? I'll go insane if we don't," he says quietly, looking up to pout completely at Eren. And he was always unaware he did it to Eren, too, which he didn't know if that was a good thing or not. 

 

"Of course, love," Eren says, smiling down at his lover before he drives his truck to the store down the road, wishing they were home instead of going to their measly hotel room. Levi's OCD must be rubbing off on Eren, because the thought of hundreds of people using the same room as he and Levi and having none of the things in there not getting cleaned...

 

It made him want to barf. 

 

They stopped into the store, grabbing the other's hand. One thing that Eren liked about Trost was that, funnily enough, being gay was more common than being straight. Which meant they didn't have to deal with discrimination here at all. 

 

Levi was more fluent in Trostian than Eren, so he was the one to ask where their cleaning supplies were. They bought quite a few things, then cleaned out the car before sitting in it to drive to their room in the hotel all of the other archeologists were residing in. 

 

Eren was happier when he was doing such domestic things with Levi. He couldn't help it---working with him was awesome, since it was how they had met, and it was the thing that both of them loved---and having sex was also amazing---but, doing the little, simple things was so calming. 

 

Eren's family wasn't the happiest, or greatest, and while he loved his parents, Eren had a line. And his family crossed it more times than he wished for. 

 

So meeting Levi, loving him, having this small, calm person love him back and be there for him... 

 

It made him want to cry. He had wished for this his whole life, being in a relationship with a man and being an archaeologist. 

 

They sat down on the balcony floor---probably the cleanest thing there---looking up at the dusk sky. It was beautiful, here in Trost. And having his beautiful lover in his lap, looking so serene with him made the scene even more heartwrenchingly gorgeous. 

 

"What do you think about what we found today?" Eren asks out of nowhere. It was beyond interesting, and a little weird in a slightly creepy way, the similarities between the past lovers of Trost's royalty and Levi and himself. 

 

Levi opens his, looking up at Eren behind him. "What about it? The prince and his concubine?"

 

Eren rolls his eyes. He knew Levi felt the same, he just didn't want to seem weird himself for thinking it odd, how the prince of Trost and his lover and them two looked and sounded alike in the stories. 

 

"Yeah, jackass. And don't say concubine, it sounds so... I don't know, crude, for how the story was told," Eren chastises. He thought it was a rather lovely story, what was told. 

 

Levi shrugged, but nevertheless had a twinkle in his eyes. Whether from the sunset or the story, Eren didn't know, but he thought it to be safe to just assume it was a mix of the two. 

 

"I guess. It _was_ a little weird, how alike the two of them were to us," he admits. 

 

"A little? You saw the drawings of them, right? They looked _exactly_  like us, Lee. That's a whole fucking lot weird," Eren exclaims, starting to get worked up. 

 

Levi raises a thin eyebrow, looking at him as if he just said he wanted to take a shit while looking at a picture of Pixis. 

 

"Yeah. But what are we supposed to do? Ask the rain gods what it means?" Levi asks sarcastically, looking back towards the sunset, but really he was too lost in thought to take in the beauty of it anymore. 

 

They sat there for a while, sunset turning into night, both of them thinking back to the story.

 

The poor things. They tried quite hard to help, to stay with their lover. And the one that resembled Levi... Rivaille, he was a whole other story; not that Yeager wasn't a sad one to hear about. 

 

Eren sighed with his eyes closed, shaking his head. How long would it take before humans could actually have a restful sleep at night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short and uninformative. I just wanted to update this, and I've got a bit of a case of the horrid writer's block, so if anyone has any suggestions, they're more than welcome.  
> I'll update this next week, so please, help by then, otherwise I'll go to drastic measures *ominous music playing*


	10. The Chance to Prove Your Worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, depression's been kicking my ass, so again, sorry.  
> I /seriously/ need a Beta. A long term one. And one that can help me with ideas and plot and shit, not just editing, so if anyone wishes to talk to awkwardly with me...

"What do you mean ' _I want to help you?_ '" Rivaille asked, eyebrow raised high. Eren's eyes widened for a few seconds, his pretty---not an accurate enough word for just how... fuck, his eyes were...---eyes not leaving him until he remembered the situation. 

 

"Look, Isabel and I have been planning this for a long ass time, and if you two want to stay here and deal with Miss Multiple Personalities, please, by all means, stay. Take our place.

 

"But... if you want to leave... if you have even a little bit of sympathy and wish to help all of the others in your situation, please help us," he finishes. 

 

Farlan kept his eyes on Eren for a few moments before turning his blue eyes on Rivaille. Rivaille looked back up, face emotionless, but eyes calculating and cautitious. "What, exactly, makes you think we can trust you," the blonde asks, trying to keep the hesitancy out of his voice. 

 

Isabel rolls her eyes, crossing tan arms over her chest. "What reason would we have to torture you two like that? You think I like having to bash slaves over the head? I feel like a piece of trash seeing that happy gleam in our mother's eyes. I want to get the fuck out of here, but if I can help others escape while I'm at it, I'm all for it," she says in one breath, her older brother looking proud of her and equally sympathetic. 

 

Rivaille trails his eyes over the two before looking back at Farlan, trying to not roll his eyes when he sees his blue orbs trained on Isabel. 

 

Of course, the lad is going to fall in love with Princess Sympathy over there. 

 

"As sweet as that is, it doesn't gain my trust," Rivaille drones, face looking unimpressed. Isabel looks offended on a personal level while Eren seems understanding. Of course, he's understanding, hot, _and_ kind.  

 

' _God fucking dammit._ ' 

 

"Understandable. I would be disappointed, honestly, if you did." He shrugged, charming smile forming on his sun kissed face. 

 

"Well, I'll give you until tomorrow night to give me an answer; and trust me, by then you'll have one. C'mon, Isa---mother is expecting us to conspire against her, I'm sure, with them," he says, bringing his hand up to take her smaller one in his, his smile turning more gentle, as if she was the most important person to him. 

 

Rivaille recognized the look all too easily. 

 

 

 

 

 

Rivaille sat on one of the plush pillows making an assortment of a bed, keeping the almost semi transparent drape around the perimeter of it away to watch, utterly bored and annoyed by, Farlan's pacing back and forth near it. 

 

"What are we going to do, Rivaille? I _want_ to trust them; they _seemed_ genuine," he mutters, running a hand through his wild blonde hair, "But I don't want to get bit in the ass in the end of this---if there _is_ an ending to this, if there's one I wouldn't mind seeing. God, I just want to _go home_."

 

They did, in fact, seem sincere. A lot of people had tried to con and hurt Rivaille and his family, the people he resided with, some of the perpetrators being the people he lived with. But by now, as old he is---even if he is, in fact, not old by any means---he knew what sincere looked and sounded like, and the prince and princess were his definition of the word. 

 

But, that was a bit too quick for him to hand over his trust. Because, if he said yes, he would agree to conspire against the Royal family and nobles and aristocrats and the whole higher class of Trost, the cost they would all have to pay if they got caught...

 

Rivaille shook his head slowly, looking at his pale, slender hands. No, while it was helpful to plan ahead, it wasn't good for his mental state as it was right now to think of such things. Because he _will_ have to deal with the trauma of what's happened to him eventually. And when he does, he's going to need more than a day. 

 

He is positive, at least, that Eren's words are true. By tomorrow night, he will see for himself the answer in front of him, on the tip of his tongue. Freedom will be in his grasp, if he goes with Eren. If Farlan comes with him, and Isabel, and as many of the slaves Carla has bought comes as well. 

 

Eren seems the type to be tenacious, stubborn. Determined to the core, his bi-coloured eyes burning with a passionate fire within them. If anyone was the epitome of someone he would choose to conspire against an army with, someone he would trust with his back, his...

 

Maybe not that far, yet. But yes, he would give that to Eren, come tomorrow night, if he proved himself. 

 

He would give the prince the chance to earn more than his trust if he proved himself worthy of such things. 


	11. Decision Day, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, every time a request or comment goes unsaid, three whores are unpaid.  
> (Am I the only one who thinks that Levi would be like Onision if he were a Youtuber??)

The day started off with one of the servant girls shaking him and Farlan awake and dragging them into warm and scented bath water. Rivaille would've went willingly, but he _just_ woke up and he didn't feel comfortable bathing with other people present... that he didn't know personally. Just because Farlan and him were stuck in the same boat, didn't mean that they were best friends. 

 

After a vigorous washing and getting toweled dry and lathered with some kind of lotion (which he could've done himself), they were then dressed similarly to what they wore the day before, more jewels in the hair and kohl around their eyes, their outfits in similar colour schemes as before.

 

It wasn't that Rivaille didn't like this---fuck, this would probably his and his family's dream---it was just the circumstance he was in that made this whole situation uncomfortable and wholeheartedly horrible. _Ghastly_ , even, and to think that there were others in _way_ worse of situations then Farlan and he was in...

 

What the Prince and Princess (mostly Eren---Isabel and Farlan were probably too busy eye-fucking each other) had said the night before kept replaying over and over in Rivaille's mind. And despite the rather harsh treatment this morning, the day hasn't been that bad so far. But Rivaille knew better than to make assumptions so early in a game of chess. 

 

You had to contemplate every move you and your opponent made, had to think three steps ahead of time. And Rivaille was very sure that not only Carla, but also Eren knew what they were each planning and tried to come up with a counter attack of their own, something Rivaille should be doing. 

 

Because, oh my, what if Eren and Isabel were lying the day before? What would Farlan and he do? What if Farlan was in on this, now that he's thinking of how crazy that sounds, convoluted plan? What would _he_ do? 

 

Well, not much he could do. He doubts that if it were just himself he'd be able to start a rebellion, because he truly does wish to end slavery; it wasn't right, just like prostitution and no abortion rights and not letting those who wished to be married be wed. 

 

But he wasn't a social justice warrior---he was just Rivaille, son of a used-to-be-whore, twin brother of a girl he didn't know if was still alive or not, was in a similar situation as him, was hurt back home in the brothel. 

 

He was the protector of all of the mothers there, the children. The cooks and the owner and his own three-person family. There were even some animals there that he helped protect. And he _wasn't there to do so_. He _needed_ to go home, and to do so, he had to find a way to _escape_. 

 

And an apparent way _to_ escape was to see what type of shit happened today. And if Eren was right, that shit here wasn't right and they needed to be able to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible, the answer for his wondering was to just _watch and listen._ See what thesepeoplewere capable of. To see what the children of Queen Carla and King Grisha has had to live through for their whole lives, watching others get hurt along the way, and no doubt being traumatized from it all. Rivaille feels a slice of sympathy for them, one child of an unlucky childhood to another. 

 

He and Farlan are led to the dining room, their sandals---Farlan's a light brown, Rivaille's a dark brown---clacking against the floor of the long hallway, Rivaille's footsteps smaller and silent, years of sneaking around making him all the more aware of his surroundings.

 

The two girls in front of them suddenly stop to bow in front of a giant of a man, towering over Farlan even. Probably Eren, as well. 

 

Rivaille realizes he looks familiar because he was in the room with the Royal family yesterday when the 'situation' happened, staring at him like other men would in the brothel, making him feel sorry and wondering how his mother and others could deal with that sort of behavior on the daily. 

 

Erwin, that's right. 

 

"Ah, it's you two; the fiancées of Prince and Princess Eren and Isabel, if I am correct," he says smoothly, blue eyes raving over the two of them, eyes straying over Rivaille longer. 

 

He suppresses the urge to heave. The two of them nod slowly, the girls previously in front of them now standing to the side, their arms in front of them, heads bowed. 

 

Weird. 

 

"Well, I really wish to continue and chat, but I've got work to do, places to be. If you'll excuse me," he bows, smiling... oddly at Farlan and him, Rivaille's scowl hidden from the thin veil over his mouth, attached to the small cap on his head. 

 

Farlan looks over at him, a distressed and untrusting look on his face. Rivaille returns the sentiment in a calmer manner, nodding sharply. Don't trust that creep, got it. 

 

It seemed that Farlan wasn't too busy imagining his future with the red-headed princess. 

 

They continue their walk to breakfast like before, Rivaille half-expecting it to be with the other servants, or a dining room made for the... courtiers, he presumes. But he's half-surprised to see the royal family sitting at the long, golden table, eating awkwardly (at least, everyone _but_ the Queen). 

 

The girls before them bow and announce their presence (as if the large swing of the golden double doors weren't enough of pronouncement) then bowing again, male servants moving forward to lead them to their chairs, each of them sitting next to their respective fiancé, then standing away from the silent group of people. 

 

Farlan and Rivaille both steal a glance at the other before returning their gazes to their meals, debating whether or not it was a smart move to eat the food presented to them. It was just a simple curry dish, the spices heady in the air, along with Eren's scent next to him that he'll appreciate when he's alone at another time. 

 

He looks up when he feels a harsh gaze directed at him, seeing a smirking golden-eyed Carla. "Not to your liking, son-in-law? Weren't you a commoner before we had all welcomed you into our home abode? I'd think that you would've appreciated my gesture of welcoming you and my other son-in-law into the family, but if you're going to be picky with your food, I'm going to get offended."

 

Fuck. What did he do? Eat it and hope for the best? And he couldn't just not eat it; he needed to gain some strength and not starve, at least a _little bit_ of trust, and if he ends up getting poisoned, there wasn't much he could do. He'd only have a matter of time before it got into his system, and all he would be able to do then was hope that it was a quick death. 

 

So he lifts up the silver utensil and lifts up a spoonful of the curry and brings it to his now unveiled lips, not looking away from Carla's gaze. He feels everyone's eyes on him and Carla simultaneously, but he's more worried about the food than anyone else thinking that he was insane. 

 

And to be honest, he wasn't that worried at all. If it weren't for his rapidly beating heart rate, he'd think that he was in total control of his body. 

 

And so, taking a bite of the food before him, he lets the delicious flavor run over his tongue, swallowing it after its thoroughly chewed, malong it acceptable to flow down his throat and swallowing loudly just to satisfy his need to annoy the queen before him. 

 

And it seems to work. Her expression of utter distaste makes him believe that she didn't attempt to poison his or Farlan's food. Or anybody's, for that matter. While he isn't able to witness the whole picture, what he can see makes him unsure as to why she would try to kill anybody in the room. That Erwin man, though, he wouldn't care if he were to see dead; he was fucking creepy, the encounters he's had with the man. 

 

He doesn't hear it but he's aware of the inaudible sigh of relief Eren, Isabel and Farlan let out. He meets Eren's eyes for the first time since entering the room, seeing a look of relief and a large amount of respect in the bi-coloured orbs. They're so beautiful Rivaille almost finds it disgusting, how much he wishes to never be able to stop looking into the sad and furry-fueled eyes.

 

Getting sidetracked, Rivaille. Well, whatever, fuck everything else; when he thought someone was attractive---which had happened maybe once, and then he heard what that man had to say, and he had promptly gave up on romance... at the age of twelve---he thought so. At least, he had now decided was so. 

 

Because fuck, Eren was. And as he ate the rest of the curry before him---he was hungry as fuck, and he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten---he thought of all of the qualities he has witnessed of Eren. And, admittedly, there weren't a lot, but what he had seen were respectable enough. And, either way, he had decided the night before that if, by the end of the day, if Eren and Isabel hadn't  proven themselves then he wouldn't help them. And he'd try to get Farlan on board if he suspected anything amiss, though he wouldn't try to stop him if he wanted to get hurt by the two siblings. 

 

He needed to stop starting sentences with 'And'...

 

Soon, Carla cleared her throat loudly, turning her attention to her and King Grisha's two children. 

 

"Have you decided if you two were going to spend the day with your new fiancés? Because if not, then they could get a tour, maybe, by Erwin; I'm sure he wouldn't mind wandering the castle halls with these two beauties," she says---more like leers---winking at Farlan and Rivaille. 

 

Rivaille barely supresses the urge to shiver, the two siblings and Farlan all seem to also feel the same about the tall blonde.

 

"I want to get to know them more, Mother, since we'll both be marrying them, won't we?" Isabel objects, her green orbs cutting into Eren's. 

 

"Yes, it's quite alright, Mother," Eren agrees, looking away from his sister's gaze to Carla. 

 

She seems pleased immensely, smiling at her husband. "See? I told you that they'd get around to the idea!" She squeals, hands clapping. Rivaille wishes that she was being as sweet and happy in a more positive way than this shitfest. 

 

King Grisha looks at his children, then their... concubines, Rivaille supposes, looking almost dejectedly and sadly towards the queen. He just nods slowly, making Rivaille wonder if maybe he's sick or incredibly sad. He wouldn't exactly blame him; being married to the rapidly switching personality crazy woman must be so draining. Fuck, he'd probably end up killing himself if there was no other form of escape from her. 

 

Its only the beginning of the day and Rivaille thinks that he already has his answer for Eren and Isabel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the 'Decision Day,' I suppose I could call it...  
> Beta is wanted desperately.


	12. Decision Day, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out of hell* *leaves chapter* *gets dragged back into pit to hell*  
> Just an FYI, some, if not most, of my works may contain manga spoilers that if you watch the upcoming next season of aot, you'll see what happens.  
> If you can, please read the manga---I'm not even at chapter 90 and I'm in love with this anime all over again.

Rivaille kept a close, yet leisure pace behind Eren, the red-headed princess beside her brother, Farlan walking next to Rivaille in a slightly erratic pace. Rivaille couldn't help the almost viscous eye roll. 

 

Rivaille tried to keep a high alert to his surroundings, keeping his eyes and ears figuratively open to anything, though the blueish-grey narrow orbs kept falling back onto the tan male's lean back before him. He couldn't exactly try to stop because he's _been_ trying to, and every time he succeeds in not practically eating him with his eyes, he ends up just thinking about the prince. 

 

It was annoying and could end up getting him in trouble, and Rivaille sincerely hoped that none of the three people surrounding him got hurt in the midst of all of this. As violent and almost ignorant of what could happen in the future his childhood and onwards was, Rivaille didn't like to hurt others. Yes he could be, but even when protecting those he loved and cared for, he hated the feeling of bones breaking under skin he assaulted. Blood gushing out of the nearest opening. Teeth falling out. It almost haunted him at night. 

 

And sometimes he imagined it was him or those he was protecting that had gotten those painful injuries. Though he hasn't known any of these three people for long, the pacifist inside of him didn't want to see these sorts of things happen to---in his mind---these innocent bystanders. Being in bad situations has made him smarter, more aware, more intuitive, and he could tell that the royal family's heirs before him truly wanted things to change. Even if they knew they wouldn't have any actual power if one of them were to be crowned, they still wanted to do _something_. 

 

It was admirable. Rivaille wouldn't deny them the compliment that came from his heart genuinely. He's already decided that he would help in their cause in any way he could, so long as he wouldn't get severely hurt in a traumatic way and that he could return home. He just wished to that he could be reunited with his family. 

 

 

 

 

 

Eren tried to be as calm and collective as he could manage. He was known to be a stubborn spitfire, but he could be clearheaded and a true leader when need be. 

 

Right now, he was leading Rivaille and Farlan to Hanji, Isabel and his cousin. While an... eccentric person at best, they were also extremely smart and could keep up in a fight should they be in one. Eren made sure that they and Isabel could do so personally---he wouldn't have those he cared for most not be able to take care of themselves. 

 

Their room was mostly a science lab, where Hanji tried to concord scientific discoveries and figure out the differences between real life and religion, something not many of the Yeager family was involved in, but the sentiment of a higher power watching over them to protect them was comforting as children, though even then Eren felt as though this 'God' could do a better job. 

 

Trying to steer away from thinking about religion and his childhood, he continued his silent trek to the other brunette's room. He missed the crazy bat, what with them not much of a socializer when in the middle of experiments, though what little peace and quiet he's gotten was okay. Things could be better, he supposed, though he didn't have _quite_ as much to complain as much as say Rivaille and Farlan or the servants---which he hated to call them as, but Isabel and he couldn't really figure out a better term. 

 

Hanji's room was on the other side of the castle, near his though in a completely different hallway. Eren hopes that soon Hanji could start to truly help them. He really does want to help the two male courtiers behind them (as his mother and others call them) and the others, though he could use all of the help he can get. Only a few of the servants know, and that's only because Eren has known those ones since he was a child, and as such knew that they wouldn't snitch on Isabel and he. 

 

Isabel was incredibly more quiet than usual, though he guesses that it's just because she's shy. He wasn't the shy type himself, though he can understand where she's coming from. Where she has an attraction towards Farlan (that is quite obviously reciprocated, how she didn't realize that he didn't know), Eren felt an almost insane desire for Rivaille. He's not sure if his want for the shorter male is obvious, though he won't ask. 

 

The ravenette is alluring, if a word could be described for him. Lovely. He can tell how strong and intelligent the other man is, and he wants to be able to get inside that head and see for himself what he has been through, what he wishes to accomplish in this life. What he believes in, what his standards are for right and wrong. 

 

And the way the servants are dressing him, bathing him in, isn't helping Eren's desire to not only bed the man, but to also be able to treasure him. Eren was the hugging type, and all he wanted to do was embrace the pale skinned, exotic beauty behind him. While he wasn't sure if his feelings were returned, he hoped and wished for them to be. He was just glad that Rivaille didn't want Erwin. The blonde got on Eren's nerves on an almost profound level, and he's been dealing with not only his but his mother's bullshit all of his life. 

 

All he could do, though, was hope that those romantic feelings could be requited, and that he'd be able to get at least the four of them and Hanji away from this hell hole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case any of you are all 'We wanted a slower build up to all of the pining!" (Fuck you) just imagine---Eren, as in the actual Eren (doesn't have to be canon time) is into you, wants to date you and marry you and make babies with you. Would you /really/ want to take your time? Or would you want to just get on with the program and call the fucker yours?  
> See what I'm doing? I'm making it more realistic in the fact that Eren is Eren, and Levi is Levi, and they're both hot and wonderful, and they should make babies asap.


	13. To Hanji We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time the chapter is completely in Eren's pov! ((Why am I so excited for this, /I'm/ the one whose writing this shit fest...))  
> And sorry if my Hanji isn't the best, in here and in all of my other works with that beautiful person. I usually envision my cousin, since they're kind of like them...  
> Whatever. Read this, find my social media and spam me with love, or hate on this ship, I don't care, one way or another.

Eren led their courtesans and his little sister to their cousin, Hanji, knowing that they were the only other person that they could trust other than the other sibling. 

 

The three of them had grown up together, going through similar yet their own individual problems, each sad and something they all wish they could just be done and over with going over in their head and overcoming already. And while they had so much to be thankful for, none of them were quite as happy as normal families in the market in smaller villages seemed, poor or not. 

 

Eren knew his face must've been something to witness, if the looks servants and his sister passed him. He supposed, thanks to Isabel letting him know previously, that he tended to look angry or upset about something a majority of the time. 

 

Isabel had also said that he used his puppy dog eyes more than he realized he did. He responded that she did, too, and that she shouldn't be a hipocrite. 

 

The walk from the dining room to Hanji's lab room/bedroom wasn't a long one, but every one of the four persons on the 'trip' seemed to need to walk a little slower in need to think something over in their minds individually without any hindrances. Eren also thought that it most likely had something to do with all of their knotted-together-situation. 

 

He truly felt sorrow for Rivaille and Farlan, his attraction for Rivaille not in any part of the reason why. Just like how he felt sorrow for the other servants and slaves, those he saw in the market who were starving. Homeless. Parent-less. Loveless. 

 

How anyone could just turn a blind eye from any one of those people, from those who are abused and hurt and in absolute need for help, he didn't know. He wouldn't say that those people or the ones hurting the ones who are hurt should be beaten half to death in the streets...

 

He wouldn't say that.

 

Before he knew it, they all arrived in the hallway leading to Hanji's room, feeling Isabel's hand in his own. He looked down at her, seeing her return his gaze with a soft smile, eyes sparkling so beautifully. 

 

He had to get her away from this environment. It was unhealthy, and she's been through enough already. Same with Hanji, that dear, dear soul. 

 

He sighed softly, trying to will that heavy beating of his heart away. For some reason, the past... Day, wow, he had to take a moment to think that it's only been a _fucking day_.

  

He turned around, seeing Farlan and Rivaille look about the hallway, as if taking it in for later on. Eren wasn't quite sure as to why they would do so, other than to remember where it was, but he wouldn't bother them; they had quite a lot on their plate, possibly even before all of this shit had happened. 

 

"This is the door to our cousin, Hanji's, room. They will also help you in escaping, if we are successful, hopefully. They are," Eren paused, trying to think of the right word, "a bit of an eccentric, so please excuse anything they say or do," Eren finished, slightly scrunching his face, knowing that they wouldn't be calm at all at the fact that these two would be their 'fiancé's'. 

 

"They?" Farlan questioned---not surprisingly, since he was basically the only one who spoke---tilting his head to the side, blonde eyebrows furrowing. Eren could see Isabel tracking the movement with her eyes. 

 

They were both fucked, weren't they? 

 

"Yeah, 'they'. Hanji isn't a boy or a girl, so call Hanji 'they' and 'them' instead of 'he' or 'she'," Isabel demanded, slightly rudely. Eren raised an eyebrow in her direction. It was an honest question, he could tell. Non-cis people weren't that common---or came out, more likely---so Eren wouldn't even be surprised if the two of them had never even heard of such people. 

 

Farlan just shrugged, as if it didn't really matter to him either way. Good, less hassle that way. Eren looked at Rivaille to see him looking in the direction of the door, looking quite desolated. 

 

How he could be almost devastatingly gorgeous while being sad, Eren wasn't sure, but he wished that Rivaille could just be happy, and he knew that the only way that could be would be if he were reunited with his family. Eren would make sure that he would be able to see Rivaille happy, at least once. 

 

"Anyways, we'll be meeting them right now. They're probably doing one of their experiments, so please refrain from touching anything in there, as well, please," Eren said, turning with a graceful swing of his ankles, his _dhoti_ pants and longer hair swishing with the movement. 

 

Walking the last few steps to the door, he knocked on it briefly before hearing a slightly crazed voice screech 'Come in!', looking to Isabel before opening the door. 

 

Papers and books laid over every stable surface, a (somehow) perfectly made bed in the back of the room, near it a door to their bathroom and on the other side of the bed a dresser and armoire. 

 

Other than that, it was a minefield of Hanji's past and current scientific experiments. On top of often trying to find the difference between religion and fact, of life and death, they studied other cultures, saying that there were quite some... _interesting_ ones. 

 

"Ah, Eren, Isabel! Come here, my little lovely cousins!" They all but screamed, rushing towards them, jumping into Eren's half-expecting/unsuspecting arms, having to use his legs for support as well as his arms. 

 

They gave his cheek a wet kiss, their fingers running through some strands of his hair before they got caught in some of the tangles that no one could ever really untangle; not even the servants. He supposed that was a problem for Hanji, as well. 

 

They jumped off of him just as quickly as they had jumped onto him, wrapping themself around Isabel this time before they seemed to realize that they had brought Farlan and Rivaille. 

 

"Ohh~ And who are those two lovelies? Has anyone told you that you two are absolutely gorgeous?" They ask, completely shameless, though Eren knows that this isn't even close to how shameless they could be. 

 

Farlan blushes, as if not used to such things being said to him, or just being shy about it, while Rivaille seemed to want to kind of run away from Hanji. Eren thinks Rivaille just wants to plain and simple run away from this whole situation, though Hanji doesn't seem to be making the situation for him better. 

 

Eren just thinks after that thought that he'll just have to deal with them; they'll be helping.

 

"This is Farlan," Isabel waves a hand towards the blonde man, "and this is Rivaille. They're our fiancé's," Isabel introduces the three of them. Hanji doesn't hide the fact that they're clearly checking them out. 

 

Finally, after what seems to be forever, they turn to Eren, hand still on their chin. "They're so cute! No wonder you two finally agreed to marry them. Well, _Eren_ finally agreed, I suppose," they trail off, Hanji and the two siblings both visibly and figuratively shudder at the memory. 

 

The other two just seem confused, though they didn't interrupt, as if scared and cautious of the repercussions. 

 

"Well, I suppose shorty over there is Eren's fiancé, eh? You have a thing for people with black hair and shorter statures, if I'm correct, right?" Hanji winks, elbowing his side, their bone digging into the muscles there painfully.

 

Eren just keeps quiet, knowing that if he said anything that it could only get worse from there. 

 

Though, looking at Rivaille's blushing face that wasn't hidden by the cloth wrapped around most of his face, he supposes that this little tidbit wasn't that bad. Red suited the ravenette beautifully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's right, I put in an Onision reference. Fight me  
> Anyways, Eren is starting to feel something for Rivaille(!!!), so, we'll see how long it takes for these dorks to come to terms with that and confess to one another before they can finally make lovely love and adopt babies, since sadly they can't get pregnant (pregnant Levi or Eren is fine with me, they're both hot and lovely).


	14. Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for people; it is a slight one because of past abuse, though it doesn't go into detail. And it isn't about Rivaille or any of the royals.

When Rivaille and Mikasa were children, they often had to go to the nearby forest to gather some wood for those who lived and worked inside of the brothel that the two and their mother lived in. 

 

Whether or not they could fend for themselves at that time or not didn't really matter; those who knew how to taught them how to hold a knife, how to defend themselves in every possible situation. People were so thankful to Kuchel for what she had done over the years for the other prostitutes and workers that when she was with child with the twins, they had all promised to help out, one way or another.

 

In the end, Rivaille supposed, it hadn't really mattered, one way or another. Sure, Mikasa and him had helped protect those in the brothel from raids and such, saving lives, even. But it hasn't helped much, their almost inhuman amount of strength and prowess, as they were all getting attacked. 

 

Rivaille had no idea, no clue, as to what had happened to Mikasa. To his mother, the two who he had kept closest to his heart. The others, who he had soft spots for. He had no idea if _anyone_ survived the attack in which landed Rivaille as a supposed 'fiancé' to the prince of Trost. 

 

It reminded him too much of the time when he was a child, along with Mikasa, when his mother was kidnapped while they were put gathering firewood. Being stronger than most children, and being so close to the forest, it was easier on everyone to allow the two ravenettes to just do the job that past guards were sent to do. 

 

It was because people had let their guard down that Kuchel---or Olympia, as those in the brothel called her, except the owner in private---had been kidnapped, only to return approximately two months later, scarred in more than just the physical sense.

 

She wasn't the same woman as she was when they had seen her last. She shook when people got too close, paled a considerable amount when people would speak to her or close to her talking in a certain way, or when a certain melody played within hearing distance. 

 

She cried when she thought she was alone. She didn't kiss her children goodnight; hardly looked at them, some days. 

 

Rivaille later found out that she had been brutalized severely, from being sold as a sex slave before people had raided her 'owner's house, gathering more than just her out and away from the beast of a man. 

 

He literally shook with rage, and multiple other emotions, when he had found out. Rivaille wasn't sure whether or not Mikasa knew of this, or if Kuchel was even aware that he knew. All he knew was that it took literal years for her to revert back to her usual wise, graceful self; though now, she was smarter, stronger. She had become a veteran, of sorts. 

 

Rivaille could honestly say he was proud of his mother, Mikasa as well. They were both so strong, especially with the tough hands they had all been dealt with. What his mother had to go through was horrible, and he didn't even know about everything that had happened.

 

He didn't wish to know.

 

All he could say was, Kuchel had become stronger than before in a physical sense, along with her only son when he had learned of the things that had happened to her when he was younger. 

 

It was at times when he was angry, hopeful or overly emotional  that he felt that absolute rage. That literal feeling of strength going through his veins, filling his thoughts with the need to fight, fight, _fight_. 

 

He imagines that's what Mikasa would be feeling if she was in this type of situation, what his mother must've felt. He hopes so, because while it feels oh so devastating to know that now was not the time for action, to watch and wait, it was so... _liberating_ , to feel that power in himself. 

 

He remembers meeting his uncle, and how he spoke of power. Rivaille can understand his want, his _need_ , to feel powerful, though the way his uncle wanted for it was unhealthy in multiple ways---all of which weren't that good. 

 

When he first saw Princess Isabel and Prince Eren, he could tell how much they were lacking in power. They emanated smarts and rebellious rage, though to gain what they wished to, they had to be more confident in themselves and their dreams for a better world. A better life. 

 

Rivaille knew yesterday that he had already fell into their wishes, that he wanted to help them in their quest of sorts. That, if he didn't survive this or couldn't go back home---maybe there wasn't a home to go back to, or anyone, but he didn't like to think about that, though he knew he should just in case---that he could die for their cause. 

 

Listening to their cousin, Hanji, speak about their experiments, what they hoped to teach others was almost spectacular. It was so nice to hear people, other than those in the brothel, speak about equal rights and such and would probably die for those things. Rivaille could probably kiss the three of them for being so considerate and open-minded. 

 

It wasn't even afternoon and yet Rivaille felt that not only he, but Farlan as well, were ready to tell Eren and Isabel their decision. 


	15. Heavy Shoulders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if this should be a slow-build like I first intended this to be or not, it's like I wanna shove them into a room together (alone) and lock the door, but then I want them to be this whole friends-to-lovers type of shit??  
> I don't know... *cries from the stress of two jackasses of fictional characters and life itself*

"So... essentially what you're saying is, is that Mommy-dearest has basically made you two be engaged to these two otherwise who knows what would happen to them, and they agreed to help us in our quest to end slavery---basically, right?" Hanji asks, momentarily in a calm state, sitting on a gold stool with their chin in their hand. 

 

Isabel nods enthusiastically, smiling widely at Eren, "Exactly! You're so smart, Hanji," she says, grabbing onto Eren's arm. 

 

Hanji waves a tan hand, pretending to act like a blushing bride. "Oh, please dear, you flatter me too much. I'm going to end up with an enlarged ego."

 

"You already have one," Eren quips, rolling his eyes. He's been feeling out of it---whatever ' _it_ ' was---which made him rather more irritable, lately. 

 

Hanji huffs, crossing their arms as they pouted. "Honestly, Eren, you can be so mean to me. That's not the type of behavior you should show in front of your fiancé," they say, a large smirk growing on their face. 

 

Eren wants to say something like ' _he didn't choose to be my future husband_ ' or something like that, but one look towards the small ravenette already shows that he doesn't need to be stood up for. With the glare headed towards his cousin, he can see that Rivaille was quite the character. 

 

Good. He didn't need some pushover wimp to help him in his plans. He needed someone smart and strong, and who could see the big picture ahead of them, so long as he listened to what Eren said. 

 

Hanji seemed to have shivered, momentarily scared before they got ahold of themself, smiling almost maniacally afterwards. "You've got quite the power bottom on your hands, Eren," they say, and before Rivaille could do something, Eren stepped in. 

 

"Hanji, enough sidestepping around the situation at hand. Do you think that you're ready for your part?" He asks, resting his weight on one foot as Isabel looked between him and his fiancé, as if trying to find something. 

 

"Yes, in fact, I am. But if you weren't so mean to me, I'd have let you know before." 

 

"I'm sorry, Hanji. Mother has been rather difficult, as of late," Eren sighs, resting a hand on his face, fingertips massaging between his eyebrows and his temples, closing his eyes for a few seconds. The feeling of people's lives resting in his hands felt heavy on his shoulders, making him feel in desperate need of a break. 

 

It'd be a while before he got the chance, if all went to plan. 

 

"In case you haven't heard the news yet, but the Queen has set up a date for a ball of sorts, as to introduce your fiancé's to the rest of the council and such. That would be as good of a time as any to try and make a run for it," Hanji says, back to being serious. 

 

Isabel steps into the conversation, looking as confused as her fiancé, Farlan. "But, wouldn't the 'help' be needed? And we would be noticed, right?" 

 

"Not if we're quick enough," Hanji starts, shaking their head. 

 

"There will be a lot of people there, and with the distractions of entertainment, if we stay around for a little while then slip away, we could get away," Eren finishes, looking over to Rivaille and Farlan, determination and stubborn passion clear in his eyes. 

 

"Are you ready for that, helping us? Hanji, when's the ball?" He looks back to his cousin before he could see their expressions. 

 

"In three weeks time, from today," they answer, having to look at a slip of parchment paper. 

 

Eren nods before looking back, seeing their resolve. 

 

"Yes, Prince Eren," Farlan says, hesitancy in his voice. 

 

Eren rolls his eyes for probably the fiftieth time that day---probably that hour, knowing his family---before saying, almost exasperated, "You don't need to call me that, just Eren is fine. If you call me 'Sir' or 'Your Highness', I'm going to punch you," he says, the threat not meant in actuality. It takes a lot for Eren to resort to violence, only taking people in the kingdom twice to realize that. 

 

Farlan laughs softly, taking a moment to realize that Eren was only kidding. Eren takes a moment to look at his sister's reaction, only to see a sort of puppy love expression clear in her reaction to the laughing blonde. 

 

He smiles, eyes moving to Rivaille before he could even think about it, seeing blueish-grey eyes rove over him before he seemed to have come to some sort of conclusion, Eren only hoping that it was a good one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, I'm trying to build it up to this whole thing, arc, whatever. This will probably be around thirty to forty chapters, fifty at the most.  
> Requests for this and other stories are always open and read.


	16. Generation to Generation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so fucking tempted to make the title 'Panty Raid' ((when you've watched too much SpongeBob for your own good)), but I like to think that this is a rather serious story, and it isn't really the type of vibe I want to give off with this work.  
> Thank you to those who've commented to this and my other stories, you won't believe how much it makes my heart jump and skip! It makes me feel like an actual Eren Jaeger is calling me perfect *daydreaming that image now*  
> Hope you enjoy, and if not, then oh well.

Rivaille remembers how once, when he was around the age of fourteen years, the brothel his family and he lived in got raided. 

 

That wasn't what was surprising, sadly. No, raids to their brothel and other ones in the village they resided in (this one was the most popular, though) were all too common. People of all classes and creeds and sexualities and sexes came here, looking for a 'good time'. And often enough, they found it with a woman (although some took multiple, or males). 

 

Kuchel, Rivaille and Mikasa's mother, was practically a queen in the brothel. With her exotic looks and faux-coy demeanor, she was worthy of so much more praise than what was given to her, and that was when she was playing the role of an 'entertainer'. 

 

Ever since she had became with child with the twin siblings, her mini-me's, she stopped sleeping with some of the guests, though even when she did they were far and few in-between. She often chose them, rather than the other way around. 

 

The last person she had chosen was their father. All she had said about the man was that he was close to Trost's nobility, and that he was much kinder than what most would've expected of him, coming from his line of work and birth line. 

 

Kuchel had taught them many things---how to fight, scavenge, steal. Different languages. How to flawlessly lie, escape any sort of situation, and how to care for someone with medicine and nurturing. 

 

She had also taught them that it was okay to like someone who wasn't the opposite sex, or maybe all of the different genders out there, or none of them. She had said that she was in a very intimate relationship with one of the other workers there, a woman whom no matter how hard he tried, Rivaille couldn't look at the same. 

 

Only because he couldn't get out the images his mother had painted so lovely from his head, the damned fucking cunt. 

 

So, when this raid had happened not long after, and Rivaille has seen that his usually stronger-than-anyone mother was being held down and attacked viciously and mercilessly, he snapped. 

 

The switchblade that his mother had stolen two of for each of her children in his hand, he ran faster than he's ever had before towards the man, kicking at his ribs harder than any ball, fighting him like never before. 

 

And when his little sister saw what had happened? She joined in, not liking that her brother felt the need to protect them, when she was there to help, too. 

 

He didn't need to worry so much, because she had their backs, too. 

 

So, Kuchel sat them down, and told them how their family was actually very, very _successful_ in fighting. They came from a line of warriors, stronger than any kingdom's soldiers or knights. 

 

All it took to get that strength and smarts out was something like this; a situation that called for their blood to boil with adrenalin. For when all of their body and mind and spirit was on the line, that they _needed_ to _fight back_. 

 

And that was when Mikasa and Rivaille became the brothel's strongest and most trusted guards. 

 

It was an almost awkward transition, going from two kids who would watch the other children and help out in the kitchen occansionally to watching out for the workers. Watching what they had been shielded from, seeing what the boys and women had to go through on an almost daily basis (some actually did do so) was disgusting, and made Levi hate that he was attracted to men more so than women. 

 

He couldn't help it. When he gave the idea that he could have a family, he imagined his mother and sister and a man by his side, not a woman. He usually joked internally that he's dealt with them all of his life, and now he was scared to fall for one. 

 

But it was his sexuality, something he couldn't change or control. He was born this way, and whether society accepted him or not, it was how it was. 

 

Mikasa and Kuchel knew, just like how Kuchel and Rivaille knew that Mikasa didn't really care one way or another who she found attraction toward, and same with Kuchel. They were all designed in their own little way, though were the same in another. 

 

So, here comes Eren, Prince of Trost, with his beautiful skin and hair and different coloured eyes that resemble something out of a dream that Rivaille would wish he had the talent to paint so that he could see them during daylight. 

 

Here comes Eren with his stubborn determination to help those in need like some white knight in a story. His kind hands and gentle attitude despite all of the passionate anger and sadness inside that was definitely boiling under the surface. 

 

No wonder Rivaille liked men, when there was some out there like Eren. Though when Rivaille thought of others being like Eren, he wanted to laugh, to feel those giggles and motions his stomach and shoulders made when he did, in fact, laugh occasionally. 

 

Eren truly was one in a kind, just like Rivaille's mother and sister. Isabel was the same, and Hanji was definitely something. As he and Farlan walked out of the Royal's cousin's lab, Rivaille watching Prince Eren like a hawk with their prey, he knew that he would end up getting closer to Eren than he wished to. 

 

He wasn't here to have fun; he didn't even _choose_ to come here. It was rape, in a way. 

 

Though, that happened sometimes, people getting closer to you than you would've wished to at first, had thought at first. He desperately wanted to come back into the pale, thin yet strong arms of his family, see the children and their pets and the other workers in the brothel, but he felt the want to bring Eren. To bring Isabel and Farlan, and if it made them happy, then Hanji as well. 

 

The Queen had to have gone through something traumatic, one way or another to become what she is now. He's heard before how Queen Carla was a beautiful, both inside and out, person to behold, and most definitely worthy of the throne by her husband's side. 

 

They must all, the Royal family, had gone through something. Rivaille felt that all-encompassing need to know why. And he'd find out. 

 

And if he got close to Eren, then he got close to the fucker. He'd fight the feelings, the thoughts. He didn't need any of those type of things to happen, especially right now, but it might just end up proving to be futile, just like what his mother told him. 

 

Sometimes love came, and sometimes it leaves like Spring into Summer from Winter. But sometimes, it stays, like the cold wind in their village. 

 

Whether Eren left like the sunny mornings that were rare, Rivaille would end up more broken than he was as of right now, but he thinks as Eren turns to look behind him at the ravenette, that maybe the time they'll spend together will be something to told from generation to generation. 

 

A _good_ love story was hard to come by. 


	17. Your Warmth

"Alright, since we don't have very much time until the party, we have to play this charade carefully, right?" Isabel inquired, leaning against Eren's side while kicking her legs, their reflections clear in the small fish pond next to them. It was a peaceful sight, the siblings next to all of this nature, though man-made, and it gave Rivaille a pang in his heart. 

 

Isabel was the polar opposite of his sister. 

 

Rivaille didn't make any sort of acknowledgement that he was even paying attention other than his eyes trailing back towards the tan-skinned brother and sister every few moments or so, though no one has yet to say anything about his quiet demeanor. He thinks that they must realize that this is just how he is, and not just because he is traumatized. 

 

"If that's the case," he speaks for the first time other than the day before, surprise clear in everyone's expression, "shouldn't we act like those who are courting one another? I don't think we'd be fooling even a blind five-year-old if we never get near those we are supposed to... marry."

 

Eren hums as he nods his head, looking down to where Isabel meets his eyes, green orbs searching teal and gold ones as if they held all of the answers they'd need in their trials. It was sweet, and Rivaille could remember a time when Mikasa looked at him like that, despite them being only a few minutes apart. 

 

Nowadays, until recently, it was the other small children who looked at him like that, like he was their savior. 

 

"Yes, that would be wise to do so, I just didn't want to rush any of you by saying so. If both of you are ready to start doing so, we can court each other. It'd probably be a good way to gain each other's trust so that this whole plan may go as smoothly as possible," Eren states, looking at the three of them for a moment until they all gave their assent, and if Eren looked to Rivaille longer than Farlan or Isabel, then he wouldn't say anything to oppose that. 

 

The chills that ran through his warm body underneath the hot sun was an answer enough to him, anyways. 

 

 

 

 

 

Eren led Rivaille to the other side of the garden, the tree exhibit for them, while Isabel and Farlan stayed at the ponds. 

 

Its quiet for a while, Rivaille looking at his surroundings while Eren seems to be waiting for him to give some sort of sign that he's ready to speak. Really, Rivaille could go for days without speaking and still be able to continue a conversation, though he supposed that these people weren't quite used to his attitudes and mannerisms. 

 

He sighs through his nose, looking at the tree he's been eyeing for a few moments before looking back to the stone flower bed wall Eren is sitting at, gold and teal eyes watching him like a hunter does their prey. 

 

He doesn't know if the flops his stomach does is from a wary feeling or something else entirely. 

 

"What exactly do you plan on doing, Eren?" Rivaille decides to get this out of the way before he gets invested in the... whatever, cause. 

 

Eren smiles, the act of doing so making him all the more attractive. This man could have _whoever_ he wanted, and yet he stops all of the dilly-daddling with him, _Rivaille_. Just _Rivaille_. 

 

What kind of medicine-caused dream is Rivaille having? 

 

"In case you haven't realized it, the reason that I can't become king of Trost is because if I do, I'll be assassinated before the end of my crowning. People are aware of what my plans would be, and not many people agree with Isabel, Hanji and I, though not everyone knows that it's more than just me wanting a revolt," he starts, leaning on his two hands behind his back, cheek against his shoulder. 

 

Rivaille stays silent for a few moments (shocker...) before he shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "Let me guess, older men who just care if their ass is wiped and their dicks are settled in someone, right?" He mutters, crossing his arms against his chest, one leg holding more weight than the other. 

 

Eren smiles ruefully. "Sadly, you're correct. My family aren't even in power, honestly. We're here mostly just for show, we have no say in what goes. Which is why it doesn't even matter if I'm King or not; I wouldn't be able to do anything unless everyone who disagrees with what I say is dead, basically."

 

"Wouldn't be that bad of a thing, if they were," Rivaille retorts on his breath, looking to his side. He hears Eren's laugh before his eyes trail back to Eren's smiling form, looking pleased now for some reason. 

 

"No, it wouldn't be that bad of a thing, should that be," he starts, one hand going through his hair. "But, sadly, that won't happen unless some sort of miracle should occur, which I doubt seriously. So, the only other answer is to take as many people as we can that we know won't sell us out, and leave."

 

"And how do you know who we can trust; how do _I_ know that I can trust you?" Rivaille demands, the first honest sign of emotion evident in his voice and body, shocking Eren again, it seems. 

 

Eren frowns, closing his eyes languidly. "I don't really think that I'll be able to gain it with just 'come with me and see for yourself.' To be honest with you, I'd be disappointed with you should you truly decide to help me in my cause, our cause. But, if you want to escape, I'm your best hope for doing so safely and within this year," he finishes, eyebrows furrowed as he holds Rivaille's gaze. 

 

Its a few more moments before Rivaille nods his consent. "True," he says, rolling his neck, small pops being heard from doing so. "How, exactly, do you court someone?" He asks, changing the subject. He doesn't forget that this is supposed to be fake, all of the romance and the whole 'we've been happy and in love from the moment our eyes met.' He knows this. 

 

Doesn't mean he can't feel _some_ sort of attraction to the fucker in front of him, even if this is all a part of some sort of plan. 

 

"I wouldn't know, I've never pretended to court someone, or actually try to," Eren answers, looking as if he expects Rivaille to be some sort of King of Aphrodisiacs and sex secrets. 

 

"And you think I do? I've never did any of that, either," Rivaille growls, tightening his hands against his arms. 

 

Eren smirks. "And you look like that? Sorry, but I doubt that, seriously. You're gorgeous, to say the least. The bitch face doesn't deter that; if anything, it adds a bit of a mysterious air around you," he sings, practically, Rivaille biting and clawing at every part he can reach to keep from blushing. 

 

"Yeah, no. Never wanted to, even if I had the time. Not exactly easy."

 

"Well, at least you have standards. I'd be worried if you didn't."

 

"Worried, for me? Why is that, Prince Eren of Trost?" Rivaille teases, though his raised eyebrow makes it harder for Eren to realize at first. 

 

The brunette snorts, somehow making the action more beautiful than he should. 

 

"Don't you worry your little ass, I'm not going to do anything to you. I was just surprised, I forget sometimes that I'm not the only one who doesn't go to his knees for just anyone."

 

Although that statement is innocent enough, Rivaille feels as though there's something behind those words, as if Eren has seen some shit for quite some time. He wants to ask, desperately, what he's gone through. 

 

Wants to find some way to help this sorry soul. 

 

"Hmm. You should think outside the box more, then," Rivaille muses, knowing how stupid of a statement that was. Of course this man, of all people, would be able to do that and succeed with flying colours. 

 

Eren just smiles again, patting to the side of him on the stone, eyes half-lidded and glowing even under the shade of the huge ass trees. 

 

Rivaille sits beside him, and they stay together in silence until Farlan and Isabel find them after some time, the two of them looking happy. 

 

Rivaille's heart hadn't stopped trying to beat out of his chest the whole time he felt Eren's warmth near him. 


	18. Wandering Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I just finished 'Giving Up the Ghost' by zhedang on here, and now I'm reading 'Good Enough to Eat' by wasterella---both stories I am obsessed with, and the latter I'm still on the first chapter, so please read them  
> And sorry for the delays in updating, I was editing this to the best of my abilities without adding or changing anything to what I've written

Rivaille felt an almost awkward transition happen between being alone for what felt like only a handful of minutes to walking around the castle's halls with Farlan and Isabel in their presence once again. 

 

He wasn't resentful; there wasn't anything _to_ be resentful about, nothing for him to cry or stomp his foot over. Eren and him were in an uncomfortable, horrible relationship when he thought about it, so bringing whatever... that was before, onto the table on top of everything else seemed like an unwise decision to make, in his eyes. 

 

In Rivaille's mind, there was only so much you could take before you snapped and became this shell of a person. He's been to his limits before, has been through " _tough_ " situations that had seemed like there was no end, no way to get out of. But this, this was absolutely insane. 

 

Because, how the fuck was Rivaille supposed to cope with the fact that what has happened to him in the last few days _has happened to him._ That was... poppycock, at the very least. 

 

Eren himself seemed like, despite how he portrayed himself, was on the edge of sanity. It was saddening to the core for Rivaille to just continue seeing him and knowing that this man was suffering, because it was so obvious to Rivaille. He knew what suffering looked like. And while using the word "saddening" didn't seem like the appropriate term, it was at least accurate a little bit.

 

Really, it was heart-wrenchingly horrible. Those beautiful eyes weren't just flames of passionate anger and determination, but depression and hope that things would get better, though Eren seemed at times when they were walking that he didn't believe what he preached. 

 

This time around, they made sure to stand next to their fiancé's as they walked, keeping enough distance between the pairs to seem like they went together as a group, but was still trying to get a feel for each other as a partner. 

 

In a way, it was true; they were trying to see if this whole charade, this extravagant plan was worthwhile, though with Farlan and Isabel definitely feeling some type of attraction towards each other, the whole 'getting a feel' was a little too correct, disgustingly enough. 

 

Rivaille blames the fact that he's so awkward and weird about relationships because he grew up in a brothel with a prostitute for a mother. 

 

Eren hadn't said a word since they had left the gardens, and though Rivaille missed the sound of his truly spectacular voice, silence was what he needed. Rivaille couldn't concentrate on going through another life crisis if the God of a man was doing any more than what he was now.

 

Rivaille may be in lust over Eren, but for now that's as far as he would allow his feelings for the brunette go; he couldn't afford at the moment to let his feelings get in the way of getting out of here and possibly reuniting with his family. And while he'd hate it if he had missed the chance to be in a safe, consensual relationship with Eren, he wouldn't do anything drastic like confess his undying love for the man right now. 

 

Maybe after they escape, and there's no need to worry about tall, blonde men or crazy-not-actually-in-control Queens. 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometime after walking in complete silence (Isabel and Farlan felt that talking would add to the awkwardness between the raven and brunette), they arrive at the dining room once more. 

 

"Oh yeah, Mother doesn't eat lunch for another hour or so," Isabel murmured, though it was loud enough for the other three to hear. 

 

"Yes, I didn't want to get sucked into another weird conversation with her again," Eren grumbled, and the sight of a (obviously worried but ignoring that for now) grumpy-Eren was too much for Rivaille's frail, currently Eren-obsessed heart to take. He was thankful for the cloth over his cheeks and mouth.

 

"Does it count as a conversation if only one person is talking throughout it?" Isabel wonders, though Rivaille imagines that this is her teasing her older brother, and he feels that nasty pang in his chest again when he thinks of Mikasa. God damn little sisters...

 

Eren hums, seeming too busy thinking over something to respond to her goading. His eyes look a little duller than they've been before, and Rivaille desperately wants to know what he was thinking on the way here, what he's been thinking his whole life. He was a smart man, Rivaille could tell, but he seemed the type to be self-deprecating and oblivious to his own amazing-ness.

 

Shame, really. Eren was pretty damn wonderful in Rivaille's eyes. And no matter how many times he thinks that he should just suppress what he's been feeling, when he looks at the brunette it all comes back in a stampede, soldier-like swords stabbing him with warmth and a weird feeling in his chest and stomach.

 

He was fucked, he knew that already. And the fact that Eren was messed up in the head, being more relatable, made Rivaille want him more in more than just the physical sense. 

 

Though, walking into the dining room and seeing the blonde man, Erwin already sitting there, he thinks that Eren's hand would feel good in his own so that maybe he'd be able to feel comfort from it, knowing that everything was going to be okay. 

 

Because he honestly had no idea if he'd would end up being okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this feels too short or has too much internal monologue, I've been busy with this thing called depression and other fun shit like that, sooo...  
> Anyways, hopefully your days are better than mine.


	19. Prevailing Shuddering Breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few words with the mysterious Erwin and more plans to escape lay ahead! (*watching too many Star Trek shit makes me like this, I formally apologize*)  
> Chapter written in third-person omniscient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who've went onto my Wattpad account and started to read my other work there, I plan on making a sort of one-shot compilation similar to this one but for the BTS ship Taegi, being my real-life otp. So, some of those chapter will basically be the same as these, just so you know.  
> Thank you, and I hope you enjoy

"Hello, Prince and Princess," the blonde man purred, making it obvious for his seemingly sudden distaste for their fiancés, Farlan and Rivaille. 

 

Eren nodded while Isabel made it an effort to show that she was 'happy' to see the old family friend, though recently, he hasn't been much more than a troublesome leech. It was annoying, at the very least. 

 

"Please, sit down and relax; don't be hasty to retreat to the confines of the private, pleasure gardens," Erwin called out, an odd sort of smile on his face, as he waved before them to the layout of fruits and grains to eat. 

 

Eren, surprisingly, stepped forward first, Rivaille feeling the odd urge to walk right with him, at his side, though he kept himself still. Then Isabel went, grabbing onto her brother's hand with a faux-happy jump in her steps, the courtesans walking after them---as they should, in societies eyes.

 

Sitting next to their respective fiancés, the Royals and noble started to eat in an awful, awkward silence, the tension so thick that Rivaille could cut through the air with the golden spoon laying by his bowl full of some sort of red fruit. 

 

Trying to subtly slide his eyes towards Eren and Farlan, the only two who had the slightest bit of his trust here, he sees that Farlan is just as hesitant to eat, though he looks more obvious towards his distaste. Rolling his grey eyes, he sets the narrow orbs to Eren.

 

He wasn't even bothering to hide his own distaste, but is moreso anger than trying to make sure that he wasn't going to be poisoned. Golden cheek residing in a large hand, he just stares with gorgeous, hate-filled eyes towards the blue-eyed giant, chewing harshly at a nut. 

 

"Is there something you need, my prince? Or food on my face---that'd be an utter embarrassment, especially in the eyes of all of you gorgeous beings," Erwin drawls, and the amount of sarcasm laid into his words as if it were his first language reminds Rivaille, once again, of home.

 

He was tired of all of this shit, he needed to go home to his family. 

 

"Not particularly," Eren replies, and had his mouth not been moving or his eyes not blinking, he'd have been as still as a statue. 

 

Erwin hums, and with that silence reins once again it's heavy crown, lasting for the rest of the 'meal.'

 

When they were done---Isabel and Erwin, mostly... definitely---the siblings and giant blonde all looked to one another, an almost silent conversation being held through their eyes and stone-like facial expressions. Everything about it reminded Rivaille of his family, though even with how blank their faces could get, there was love evident in their eyes. 

 

These three rarely seemed to show any sort of genuine emotions. Rivaille wondered if it was something that happened when you were of higher class or had just gone through traumatic things. With all of his life experiences practically flashing before his very eyes, Rivaille would guess the latter. 

 

Erwin grabbed his folded jacket from the back of his chair, standing up flawlessly, with such grace that some of (most of) the prostitutes from the brothel would've killed to have. Running his arms through the sleeves, he rakes his eyes over to each person sitting at the golden table. 

 

"I hope that you've heard somewhere along the grape vine that you're engagement ceremony shall be in two weeks, you wedding two days after for the prince first," Erwin stated, his face impassive as he pats Isabel's red hair when he walks away, closing the golden double doors with an almost silent ' _thump_.'

 

Eren keeps his eyes towards the doors the blonde had just left through, and Rivaille could just _see_ the steam pouring through his ears, absolute anger running through his veins in a red-hot rage, making his body shiver despite the exceedingly hot weather. 

 

Standing up so quickly and harshly, his chair fell backwards as he storms off through the same double doors, only this time they slam in a deafening ' _clack!_ ,' leaving the three other members out of five in wonder and confusion. 

 

What had happened to the royal family and their old friend to have made them all act this way? 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ooooohh," Eren rushes, stomping back and forth in front of Hanji, the bespectacled brunette watching his every move in concerned interest. Such passionate anger _had_ to be watched over and recorded, in their fine opinion. 

 

"So, he ate, told you of your families plans, patted Isabel and left?" Hanji repeated, though with much more amusement in their voice than Eren had used. 

 

"Yes, I _literally just_ told you what he had done," he growls, stopping to glower at his cousin before he continued his previous ministrations. 

 

Hanji smirks, eyelids lowering so that only half of their glimmering brown eyes showed, their eyelashes obscuring the image. They were a beautiful person, in Eren's mind, they were just so different to other people's standards of 'perfect' and 'worthy of the crown' that they never had any recognition for the work they conducted, never really seen out in public with the rest of their family because of them being the black sheep, the 'family embarrassment.'

 

Sad, truly; Hanji was a golden coin amongst black and silver ones, shining like something never seen before, something new and exciting. 

 

"I can tell what you're thinking, you must realize just why I'm acting this way," Eren tries to rationalize. 

 

"Yes, I do, in fact. How Erwin is acting like nothing is wrong, like what we've all went through had never happened, that your sister and you aren't being forced to marry people your mother had kidnapped-"

 

"Wait, she _had them get kidnapped_ , she hadn't just stumbled upon another one of those wretched slave trades?" Eren practically wails, eyes somehow wider in the wake of his disgusted shock. 

 

"She had multiple people kidnapped, she had people scouted for people she thought would please you and Isabel.  If she didn't like what she saw, she had others take them---she's done this since you first declined that first proposal," Hanji informs.

 

Eren stops his pacing, placing a hand on the nearest work table Hanji used. Staring at one of their hypothesized illustrations of the human body of a royal to a slave, he feels as though his whole world is literally crashing down onto his body. 

 

"We _need_ to stop this---it's utterly _mad_. How the fuck could she support... no, how could she _make_ these things happen? What happened to her?!" Eren screamed, his hands now grasping at the roots of his brown hair harshly. Hanji jumped up, pulling at his hands, then wrapping their thin, brown arms around his figure once he let go. 

 

This isn't the first time this has happened; Hanji, and even Eren, are quite used to this. 

 

Which probably isn't the best thing. 

 

"Would you rather leave at the engagement party or your wedding?" Hanji whispers in his ear, once they're sure he's calmed down, at least as calm as he could be. He hasn't been truly calm and happy since the two of them and Isabel were all children, running through the castle hallways and the shopping center. 

 

"Party. I need to---we _all_ need to leave as soon as possible. I can't take this anymore, I don't want to drag others through the mud."

 

"Then that's what'll happen, love," Hanji says, and the finality in their voice makes Eren think that their plans will happen successfully. 

 

They'll prevail, he's sure of it. He hopes. 


	21. Discontinued

I'm sorry to say this (and so late), but I've decided to stop writing for this fandom.

 

For a while now, on a few other sites I've been getting and hearing others a lot of shit for not only writing for this ship but this anime as a whole. And honestly, I love this anime and its characters so much, it hurts to not write about my favorite ship falling in love. 

 

But not only that, but other things have been happening (apparently) towards Isayama (the creator of aot), and it's becoming toxic, honestly. 

 

Writing as a whole, especially fanfiction, has become this outlet for me, I loved it so much. It helped with depression, anxiety, disphoria, and sleeping issues. It helped me with so much more, and it was almost euphoric, but because of so many ongoing things that revolve around the people who go around this fandom in particular and say shit, it's made it so hard to write for this and to enjoy it.

 

So, I apologize sincerely to those who liked my stories. I'll upload my story _Of Keys and Cravats_ onto Wattpad, and on my other account made for another fandom, I'll probably end up writing stuff based off of that. But I won't write ereri or aot fics in general---at least for a while. 

 

Thank you to those who gave  kudos and bookmarked and subscribed my stories---it meant, and still does, the world to me, and I'll always be thankful for this whole fandom as a whole. It's just become too suffocating to enjoy writing for right now.

 

Thank you, and I'm sorry, again.

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading Street Brat by monsoon when I thought of this. Should check it out, is fucking amazing.


End file.
